[ You're a weird kid. The faint smile in response finds dimples in her cheeks. ]
Yeah, I know.
[ By the time he comes back, Nashua is sound asleep. Head crumpled to the side, she's clutching a mug she grabbed from the kitchenette's sparse dishware collection to her chest. Her bloody shirt has been scrubbed to the best of her ability and draped over the shower curtain rod in the bathroom. (With Frank gone, the mirror had only showed Nashua her own face: strong featured, pale, sagging with exhaustion.)
It's two hours, give or take a minute, after her keys clink theatrically against the couchside table that she yawns herself awake. There's no sunlight yet filtering in through the ugly curtains, so— ]
Shit, what time is it?
[ She hasn't even noticed her keys yet. Swinging her feet down to the floor, she sighs out with agitation—she moved too fast, and her injury is protesting. ]
no subject
Yeah, I know.
[ By the time he comes back, Nashua is sound asleep. Head crumpled to the side, she's clutching a mug she grabbed from the kitchenette's sparse dishware collection to her chest. Her bloody shirt has been scrubbed to the best of her ability and draped over the shower curtain rod in the bathroom. (With Frank gone, the mirror had only showed Nashua her own face: strong featured, pale, sagging with exhaustion.)
It's two hours, give or take a minute, after her keys clink theatrically against the couchside table that she yawns herself awake. There's no sunlight yet filtering in through the ugly curtains, so— ]
Shit, what time is it?
[ She hasn't even noticed her keys yet. Swinging her feet down to the floor, she sighs out with agitation—she moved too fast, and her injury is protesting. ]